


Eye for an Eye

by Fluffy_Snake



Series: Fables [2]
Category: Fable 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dream Manipulation, Exploring Lore, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, International Fanworks Day 2021, Magic, Rebellion, Self-Indulgent, The Void, This is just an excuse to write a dark romance, Unhealthy Relationships, War, When you have an eldritch god stuck to you, you might as well learn history
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29045526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffy_Snake/pseuds/Fluffy_Snake
Summary: Defeating Lucien was the easy part.  Becoming the head of a rebellion was not.  Theresa is silent and finding this damn mask in Wraithmarsh was not a good thing.  Why won't it leave her alone now?
Relationships: Alex (Fable 2)/Hero of Bowerstone, Hero of Bowerstone & Logan (Fable), Jack of Blades/Hero of Bowerstone
Series: Fables [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130918
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	1. The Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rebellion, a mask, and now a cursed spirit. Nothing goes easy for Sparrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An AU of my other fic, Little Sparrow. I am so sorry I did not write on that but inspiration struck for this. My muse is a cruel, cruel mistress. 
> 
> I have no idea how long this story will actually be but here we are. Hopefully all of my readers of the other will like this one too. I may borrow things from this to put in Little Sparrow as well.

It started with the mask. The innocent white mask with red and purple coloring. Edged with gold lines. It had been such an odd thing to find. The fights to the throne and against the forces of nobles had exhausted her. She had killed Lucien and had her baby boy, Logan. It was all that had been important to her. Until she was pushed again to a destiny she had never considered. To become Queen of Albion. The nobles lorded and hurt those beneath and she had quickly become the champion of those hurt and destroyed. 

Not that she had wanted to be such a thing but once they had assassinated her husband she had to do something. Logan still held scars for it and she hated that this life had damaged him so. But it was the mask they had found that had started this adventure. Buried deep in a cave in Wraithmarsh it had sat innocently on its pedestal. Walter Beck stood next to her. The younger lad her apprentice in the sword and her most loyal man. He helped train those who wanted it into an army. "What on earth is that?" He had asked before stepping close. She held up a soft hand as she looked at it. 

Her black highwayman's coat swinging by her ankles as she stepped closer to it. "Stay back, Walter," she whispered and stepped closer to the pedestal. The mask looked pristine for something obviously hidden in Wraithmarsh. The Shadow Judges or court perhaps being to blame. Her bright blue eyes looked down at the mask as the blue lines danced across her skin. Her hand reached to pick up the mask but stopped as her men screamed from outside. "Go help them," she whispered and Walter nodded. 

This was to be the last stop. The last fight with those rebellious nobles that tightened their grip on the power they did not deserve. Making deals with the Shadow Judges in an attempt to kill her. At least according to Reaver that had been their intention. She still hated the odious man for what he had done to Barnum but he was useful. Way too useful. She was alone with the mask and set a hand on the guild seal on her waist. It had been silent since Theresa gained the spire and revealed the future. 

Still it had its own value to her. Her dog whined next to her. His form that of a border collie. A mishap with a potion that she gained from Murgo but they had accepted it. Gone was the scraggly fur and now was the sleek black and white coat. Since his resurrection he had also become younger and back to the stage of a puppy. A gift from Theresa she supposed when the wish had been cast. A return of those killed by Lucien. Her loved ones. Alex, Logan, Rose, and Fang. Her family. Though she lost Alex once more to duplicitous nobles. "It's okay, boy," she whispered as she pet his soft head. 

The screams outside lessened and she truly hoped they were not dead. She set her fingers on the soft face of the mask and felt the wrongness then. The insidious cold feeling as her hands picked up the mask. _Put it on._ Voices whispered in her ears as she pulled the mask close. Human at first. Demonic at the end. **Power. Glory. Anything will be yours. Wear me!** She heard her dog growl and bark and could hear her son's cry as she struggled. The mask. Something was wrong with it or attached to it. 

Her Will rose in defiance and with a grunt she dropped the mask to the ground. They both tumbled to the ground and she could feel the mask glaring at her. Though it never moved and stayed sightless she could feel something watching her. Her chestnut brown hair stuck to her face as Fang ran up for attention. He whined and licked at her as she tried to catch her breath. "What are you?" She whispered and could hear laughter. It was ghostly and masculine in nature as she watched the mask warily. 

She stood up and brushed off her clothes as she looked down at the mask. It had obviously been sealed up for a reason whatever it was. The white mask with the beautiful gold edge seemed harmless. It was also cursed and wanted someone to wear it. She bet twenty gold it would possess it's wearer. " _Intelligent girl_ ," a ghostly voice whispered directly behind her. At that moment she could feel, just barely, the feel of cold metal on her shoulders. She glanced down and could see a hand covered in a sharp metal gauntlet. " _Why fight me, my sweet?_ " 

Her eyes found Fang who was shying away from the mask and whatever was behind her. Some spirit of some type? In her dog's eyes she could see hints of it reflected. A whispy coat and metal hands. The mask on his face she guessed though everything else faded. "You cannot have my body, fiend," she whispered in answer and could feel something press against her cheek. Just barely like everything else. As if he just teased her flesh to responding but not enough to really feel it. It felt like a cloth hood. He was rubbing his cheek against her own.

" _Then why not someone else_?" That whispered voice seemed to be in her head and not in the outside air. The room was stagnant with old air and the smell of damp. " _Anyone will do_ ," the voice continued and she could just barely feel the tips of sharp gauntlets running down her sides. Possessive but not hard enough to press deeply. She shivered as a ghostly hand pressed on her stomach were the only defense was thin material wrapped in a leather corset. She was about to force it away when his free hand went for her throat. Sharp gauntlets teasing the soft skin of her throat. " _I can help you_ ," the voice echoed in her head again, cajoling her. Trying to seduce her. " _Give me a vessel, Hero, and I am yours. All yours, my sweet._ " 

As tempting as it was she knew better than to agree. She could feel the tease of his chest against her back. As if it was not some thrice damned spirit and actually a man. Her hand lit up in a spell that pushed back whatever was near her. His voice had changed from the darkly seductive tone to a growling demonic voice that echoed around the stagnant tomb. " **Your disgusting bloodline** ," the voice hissed as she saw the outline of him for the first time. Tattered robe and the mask was on his face. His color was faded much like a spirit but she could see he had bright eyes that pierced into her. " **I will get a vessel, my sweet hero** ," his voice stated all around her as he faded. 

She glared at the mask before getting conflicted emotions. If any of her men picked it up or if some lost adventurer did she would be stuck having to deal with him. It. Whatever it was. It was not friendly but she already had a threat to deal with. She picked the mask up and glared down at it. She could feel the urge to put it on as if it was a tickle in the back of her mind. She pushed it away but the fiendish spirit made no other appearances. With a piece of rope she tied the mask to her waist before joining her men outside. It was time to settle this.

"Sparrow!" Walter Beck said with panting breaths as she left the weird tomb behind. The foggy and oppressive nature of Wraithmarsh crashed down on them. A contingent of her own solders stood with rifles and swords. They all but saluted her as she stepped forward. Walter looked down at the mask on her waist. "Is it useful?" He asked with a wary look. Fang sat by her but his ears twitched in an effort to pay attention to any threats. 

"No," she said with a scowl. "It's dangerous. I cannot leave it here to be freed if the chance happens. Either by wanderers or the nobles." Walter Beck nodded and her blue eyes went to the people that swore loyalty to her. A mix of former bandits and normal men and women who just wanted to make ends meet. People who suffered under the heel of those richer than them. She even saw a few of the gypsy camp in her service. "Let us finish this," she called and the assembled group cheered.

Unfortunately, the diversion into the tomb cost her more than she expected. The entrance to the shadow court was blocked but the forces left by the nobles had been a diversion. The cowards. Her eyes glared down at the man left alive as the forces of the dead surrounded them. "You are too late," the man called with a choking laugh. One of his eyes was cut out and blood stained his face. She looked at him and the two that stood next to him. "Even if I die my lord is already a step ahead," the man continued. "After we kill your brat you will-" 

The unfathomable rage in her blood called for vengeance. Her eyes seemed to glow and so did the lines on her skin as her hand raised. Blue bolts of electricity hit the man and the force of which charred him to a husk. "Kill the rest," she hissed before readjusting her hat. She walked off and Walter Beck ran to join her. "Going to tell me that was wrong?" She asked her friend and old student. Walter's face looked a little green but his lips pursed. 

"No," he answered and pat her shoulder. "If Daniel was still alive I would do the same. These bastards take way too many of our loved ones. I swore to be your sword and I meant it." Sparrow smiled and pat his shoulder in a half hug. She wanted to get home. Oakfield held many scars but it was still home to her. She needed a rest. 

"I'm going to go home," she said as she looked at the foggy swamp around her. The scars of destroyed land and the loss of life. She knew what Reaver had done to this place. The deal he had made to destroy it. Her thoughts turned to Logan. Her son who was a target all because of her. She needed to make sure he was safe. Coincidentally, her home was were Hammer kept an eye on her young son. "I miss my son," she added with another sigh.

"Of course, my Queen," Walter said and bowed to her. She shook her head with a scoff. Queen. The one thing she had not wanted but now she would fight for it. "I will get the army situated at Bowerstone," he added and she nodded. Her hand resting on her waist as her fingers touched the edge of the soft mask. She cringed and moved from it. She needed to find a way to get rid of it or hide it in her own designed tomb.

\-------

Sparrow looked around her house with a sigh and a groan. The grassy paradise farm house that had been her home with her husband. She remembered Logan running in the grass as Alex stayed home. The bee hives being a wonderful addition and the sale of honey. Logan had been staying with Hammer as the fight continued against those bastards that dared to take her husband. Sparrow did not know what she would not do without the giant red haired woman. A sister like figure who was loyal to her. Her best friend. She was so tired from the fight and the escape of the nobles. 

The Shadow Court had not been reached by the nobles but it was only a small victory. She wanted to hurry up and end these threats so she could actually be a better parent to her young son. She was so exhausted that she barely took the thigh high boots off before falling backwards into the soft bed. She almost felt as if she fell into someone's arms. Cold fingers ran through her hair but she was sure she was dreaming. " _Poor sweet Hero_ ," a darkly seductive voice called and she groaned. It felt as if she could not move but that voice...it sounded so enthralling. " _So affectionate_ ," the voice continued as she leaned into the touch. 

Her head rested on a chest that she turned to curl into. The feel of arms around her and the possessive touch made her relax. A groan leaving her at the feel of sharp fingers going through her hair. " _You are mine_ ," that dark enthralling voice whispered. She knew she should fight him. " _All mine_." 

"Who...are you?" she whispered but could not gain the strength for more. "What are you?" She heard the thing wrapped around her chuckle. She melted into his arms as his fingers scratched at her scalp. The feeling of pleasure making her relax. 

" _Jack of Blades_ ," his voice whispered and she felt sleep finally crash around her. Her dreams were no longer of dying family or threats. Just blessed darkness. Darkness that caressed and held her tightly. It felt safe in a way she had not experienced in a long time. She awoke for the first time feeling more refreshed than she had ever remembered. Until the memories of the night before came to the fore. With a swear she pulled the mask off her belt and into her hands. It felt as if it was smirking at her. 

"First thing I need to do is find a way to destroy you," she hissed at it and could feel a flash of something. Something malicious and dark. She stopped and set the mask down on her bed as a knock rattled the small house. Even from here she could see the dust shake off the door. Fang barked at the door and all but danced in circles on the main floor. Not a threat obviously.

"Sparrow!" A loud boisterous feminine voice called. "I know you are in there! Betty told me you came back." She walked down the stairs and opened the door. The taller woman grinned widely at her but her blue eyes were drawn to the eleven year old boy next to Hammer. "I brought little Logan too!" She called and Sparrow kneeled down. Fang barked before running for Hammer. 

"Mommy!" Logan called before pale hands wrapped around her neck. She laughed and swung him around before kissing the top of his head. His brown eyes wide and warm though like her she could see the scars of bad memories. "I am so glad you are back," he whispered cuddling into her neck. "Are you...staying?" Sparrow released a sad smile as her fingers ran through his brown hair that now reached past his shoulders. 

"Only for a little while, Logan," she answered with a kiss to his forehead. "The war still draws my attention. Hopefully, I can finish it soon." She watched his face fall and almost groaned at the slice of guilt. Regret filled her at how much time she had to waste just to protect him. Once she was Queen she would be better. 

"But...I wanted to show you how good I am with a sword," he whined and gripped her coat. She heard Fang whine and bark before jumping up to lick Logan's arm. He laughed and squirmed but he went down to run with Fang. "Who's a good boy?" Logan called before running out into the field to play with Fang. 

"It will be alright, Sparrow," Hammer said and pat her shoulder. Her strength almost sending her off balance. "Sorry." Her laugh made her own tenseness ease. She watched her son run with Fang happily as the sun shined over the house hidden by a Demon Door. "He's getting pretty good with a sword," she added with another smile. 

"I'll give him some lessons after a bath," she whispered to her friend. "Distract him for me will you?" Hammer nodded and Sparrow looked up at the upstairs. She had almost forgotten the mask but the ethereal man in a tattered robe was an obvious reminder. She saw a clawed finger tap on the bannister of the upstairs before his eyes met her own. She could see his eyes narrow and his head tilted into what she took to be a smile. 

She glared and walked up the stairs as he turned to face her. She wished Theresa was easier to find and contact now but...she would figure out what to do. She glared at the ghostly man before getting what she had to for a bath. The smell and feel of Wraithmarsh was still on her skin. Probably not helped by the ghostly man from a cursed mask. "Can you not go away Jack?" She asked sarcastically. 

" _Why would I want to do that, pretty little bird_?" He asked and she could hear his chuckle all around her. She needed to get rid of this damn mask. She glared at him but pulled a new set of clothes and a towel to her. Bath first then training with her son. She would ignore the damn mask for now until she found a path to take to kill it. She would hope that he could not appear far from his mask if it was what kept him anchored. 

She quickly filled the bucket with cold water as she took to washing off the grime and dirt. Her thoughts going, of course, to the cursed mask in her house. Jack of Blades. The name tugged at her memory but she could not fully recall it. Jack of Blades. She could swear she knew who that was. It was on the tip of her tongue. She heard a bark and a loud crash outside and her thoughts fled. She sighed as she heard Hammer laugh outside. She stood out of the bath and got herself dressed. Trousers and a white tunic. Simple and breathable. She walked back to the upstairs that held her bed and dresser. 

She pulled the brush through her long brown hair. She could hear Fang, Hammer, and Logan running in the sunny field. She closed her eyes as the brush went through her hair easing out knots and tangles. When she opened them she could see the demonic spirit behind her. His eyes looking down at her. His eyes pierced her own through the mirror before she saw them crinkle in some hidden amusement. Her answer was but a glare at him before she saw a clawed gauntlet go through the strands of wet brown hair. She could feel it teasing at her. "For now you will stay here," she said and stood up to leave. She could feel Jack of Blades stare at her as if he was right behind her but he never left the upstairs. 

She walked outside into the grassy paradise that had been her home. Logan looked at her as Fang ran around him with barking exuberance. "Mommy can I show you now?" Logan asked excitedly as he ran over to were the wooden swords were placed. She remembered watching Alex carve the swords when Logan had been a baby. She pulled up the wooden sword as Logan grabbed his own. "I will not go easy on you, Momma," he said with a laugh. 

"Good," she said with her own chuckle. Hammer sat down as Fang sat by her. She let loose a smile as Logan ran for her in a slice. She backed up and deflected his hits with expert ease. "Good hit," she called in support. "Focus on your footwork, my little prince." Dark brown eyes looked at her with pride before he ran for her again. Hammer cheered from the porch and she felt the tension ease.


	2. Bowerstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There once was a blacksmith and two orphaned girls. The origins of Heroes.

Sparrow woke up to her son cuddled into her chest and his brown hair tickled her arm. The darkness was still thick outside and she could hear Hammer snoring from downstairs. Her son murmured in his sleep and she kept him close. The bed she had once shared with her husband. She did not know what had awakened her from her sleep. One more day she would spend with Logan before she would leave to Bowerstone. Already the city accepted her as it's Queen. She was a noble in all but name and deed perhaps. A hero. An urchin that learned to grasp power and vengeance. 

Even in the darkness she could feel the mask staring at her. Or perhaps the spirit? Jack of Blades. She closed her eyes as she tried to relax into the grip of sleep. It eluded her. She felt the bed move and tightened her grip on Logan. It was the feel of a clawed finger running down her jawline that made her eyes open. Bright blue meeting the ethereal form of her new parasite. Her stare turned into a dry glare but she did not yell or make noise. No need to wake Hammer or her son from her anger. His eyes crinkled into a smile as he leaned closer. 

She kept herself still but tightened her hands more on her son. Logan slept on but cuddled into her body. It made her heart fill with warmth at the feel. Her eyes leaving the ethereal bastard for a moment. She felt his thumb run down the side of her chin. " _Do you want to hear a story, Sparrow_?" His voice resounded in her head. She was tempted to say no or to ignore him but curiosity was quickly taking control. Morbid curiosity on her unwelcome parasite. What exactly would this cursed spirit tell her? " _Something to help you sleep hm_?" His voice was coy and teasing. It just made her shiver. A part of her feeling the attraction she had growing to his voice. She banished that thought to the very back of her head.

"Fine," she whispered as she felt a ghostly hand go down the side of her throat. The tips of his clawed metal fingers dragged down the opening of her tunic. She shivered at the feel of it teasing at her. "Tell me a story, Jack," she grumbled and his eyes met her own. His head tilted left and then right before his eyes narrowed. It felt darker than his normal smile. 

" _Many, many centuries ago there lived a man_ ," the spirit's voice soothed and beckoned her to listen. " _His name was William. He was born the son of a blacksmith and became a blacksmith himself. But he was special. Very special. For he could grasp the power of the world in a way no one else could._ " She felt chills as his words washed over her and his fingers went through her hair. Scraping and caressing at her scalp as her body relaxed without a thought. " _He was very powerful,_ " the spirit continued with a hum. " _Powerful enough to catch the attention of a Lord of the land. This Lord offered him anything he would want. Power, land, peace, women. As long as he kneeled and swore loyalty. Do you know what his answer was, Little Sparrow_?" 

"No," she whispered before she could filter it. "He refused." The spirit hummed and she could feel him move and twist her. It felt odd as her head rested on his lap. She could almost feel as if he was a real and physical being. Her blue eyes looked up at him as he took to caressing her scalp again. Logan slumbered on and Hammer still snored downstairs.

" _Indeed he did_ ," the spirit said with a dark chuckle. " _With glowing blue eyes and bright blue lines he took the weapon offered and escaped the lord. Twisting the weapon to serve him instead of its master. It was a special and magical blade you see?_ " A clawed finger ran softly down a blue line on her cheek. She kept her eyes on him as he looked down at her. " _William gathered an army of followers_ ," Jack whispered as a clawed hand caressed over her chin. " _He fought the Lords of the land. Fought, and eventually, won. William, with his stolen blade, and his powers of a Hero succeeded in becoming the new lord of Albion. The Archon._ " 

A part of her wondered how true this all was. This story. She said nothing as she felt a sharp finger caress down another line. She had once wondered where her powers came from. Though she had never truly asked Theresa. Theresa had mentioned her forebear but briefly in the Chamber of Fate. The Chamber of Fate. Would that be a good place to seal this thing? Or to find a way to contact Theresa? It was worth a thought. Her son mumbled in his sleep and her half asleep thoughts faded. She smiled down at her son. Her beautiful son. "Was that a true story, Jack?" She asked in a whisper and heard a breathy chuckle.

His eyes leaned down to pierce her own. To leer at her own. " _Hm who can say_ ," he whispered and she glared at him. He never gave a straight answer. She still could not figure out what exactly he was. She opened her mouth to say something when she heard a noise. She focused on it. 

"Sparrow!!" A feminine voice called. She could hear crinkling grass and footsteps on dirt. A rustle of a dress and yells. "Please! Sparrow!" She called and pounded on the door. "Bandits. Marauders. They are attacking the town." Jack of Blades faded in wisps of smoke as she jumped awake. Logan followed in a more groggy state as she rushed for her weapons. Her highwayman's coat swinging over and into her arms. Logan looked up at her with a shaking lower lip and wide brown eyes. 

Hammer jumped awake and opened the door. Betty came tumbling in with windswept blonde hair. Fear clear in her eyes. She attached the mask to her belt and picked up her shaking son. She ran down the stairs and looked at them. "Hammer please protect Betty and Logan," she said as she slipped into a calmness she was use too. The easy persona of a leader, of a future Queen. "Come on, Fang," she whispered and her dog jumped with a bark. 

"Momma," Logan whispered with his shaking lip. She ran her hand through his hair and down his cheek. "You will...be safe right?" She smiled and nodded. Pure confidence oozing from her. She was strong enough to kill anyone who dared threaten her family. Hammer held out a hand for him and he jumped into her arms. 

"Be safe, Sparrow," she said and Betty looked at her with wide awe-filled eyes. "I'll protect the little one and anyone else who comes here." Sparrow nodded and kissed her son's cheek. He kissed her's back and she left. As she left the demon door she could hear the crackle of fire and the screams of innocents. Her eyes glowed as the magic in her blood ignited. She saw a man dressed in the armor of a guard run for her. The symbol of her opposition painted on his chest. 

The spell burned in her hand as she focused before the ball of fire hit him in the chest. She walked past screams as he turned to ash. She could hear ghostly laughter in her head as she walked into the battlefield. A gold hilted katana in one hand and glowing spells in the other. The enemy, perhaps twenty strong, could not stand against her. Blood covered the grass of Oakfield as shadowy figures of those dead fought their friends.

\------- 

As the sun rose over Oakfield the bruised and battered civilians walked to her. "How many did we lose?" She asked the old guard, Derek. He had abandoned the uniform as the Civil War all but split Albion. His loyalty had turned to her. Derek had a bandage over one eye as blood seeped into the bandage. His good eye stared at her, though radiating pain, he stayed strong. All she could taste was bile and a desire to scour the nobles from this land. All those who served them. To make Albion bow. 

"Six," he answered with a voice choked by ash. She tightened her hand as she watched the temple priests bind injuries. They offered prayers and she bit back her scoff. She knew she was the target of this raid. The nobles were getting desperate to hold onto their power. In anyway they could they tightened their grip. Choking the economy and making it fail. Albion was fracturing and the common folk turned to her. The Hero. "Sparrow," he said with a sigh. "We owe ya for saving us." 

"This is my home, Derek," she said with a sigh. "A place I wanted to retire and grow old at. They targeted me for a reason...I..." She was to blame. The guilt choked her. She had been selfish to stop here. To see her son. Her eyes met the terrified dark brown but she could see the defiance starting to grow in them. The desire to stand strong. She smiled encouragingly at her young son. Betty stood over the corpse of her husband with a sob and Sparrow closed her eyes. 

"No," Derek said firmly and set his hand on her shoulder. "You did what you could Sparrow. You are our Queen." She said nothing to that show of loyalty but moved towards her son. Fang had sat next to him with bloody fur and a wagging tail. She kneeled by him and Logan looked at her with wide eyes. Her hand caressed his cheek softly with a smile and he quickly threw his arms around her. She picked him up and held him close. 

"I will be going to Bowerstone," she said finally. "Derek and Hammer defend Oakfield and I will send a group here to help. It is time to finish this." To kill those that threatened everything and to finally have peace. Her fingers touched the edge of the mask and his story resounded in her skull. Bowerstone first. Then the Chamber of Fate. 

\-------

The road to Bowerstone was steep and rocky but no bandit threats attacked. A couple hobbes but nothing she could not handle. Her feet moved her onward to Bowerstone as Fang moved with her. She would need to bathe him once she got to Bowerstone to get off the dried blood and mud. His beautiful black and white coat was getting matted. She hoped Oakfield would be safe from threats without her there. Hammer could protect them but she was just one woman. 

The rocky terrain eventually evened out into rolling grass. The grass would go into giant trees and a city hidden in stone. Bowerstone. It sat at a good spot to have a river and the ocean next to it. Boats traveled carrying goods and items if trade was good enough. The country side leading to Bowerstone Old Town was peaceful if a bit empty. She released a sigh and stopped as her eyes met the city. The memories of her childhood in Old Town was not as fresh at this point in time. Fang licked her hand and she scratched his ear before stepping into the city. 

A contingent of her army saluting her as she walked into the street. The common folk that saw her stopped and bowed. Even as she didn't stop and stepped ever closer to the castle that was now her own. As she stepped into the market she crossed the Cow and Corset. Minnie quickly ran out of the tavern as she passed. "Sparrow," she said in a wide smile before her arms wrapped around her neck. "It's good to see you." 

"Minnie," she greeted with a soft smile and an awkward return of the hug. "How are you?" The old barmaid, now owner, smiled at her warmly. The wife of Daniel Beck. She wondered if Walter still came to her to help. Though he had left behind the life of a tavern owner to become a soldier. To be her sword. "Has Walter...?" She started to ask and the brown haired girl cocked her hip. 

"He's shown up sometimes," she said with a nod. "Always makes sure I'm alright. He's up the castle waiting for you." She nodded and stared up at the castle. Bowerstone Castle. _"I Wish...I Wish...to live in a castle."_ She walked away and saw the old blacksmith hammering at metal. The swords he made for her army. He nodded to her and waved. She kept on towards the castle. Bowerstone was hers. Everyone was loyal to her. 

\------ 

The castle grounds held most of her soldiers and they stood at attention as she stepped into the grounds. The castle had been taken early in her campaign to take Albion but this would be the first she stepped into it since she was eight. She could feel exhaustion burn itself into her body. Though she had power greater than common folk this was still pushing it. She walked into the castle and sought out her sword. "My Lady!" A voice called and ran up to her. He was dressed in the fancy black and white clothes she knew signified a butler. "An honor to have you here at last! I am Jasper and I am the head of the staff. It is an honor to serve you, my Queen." 

The hallway was clean and she felt as if she had stepped back into her worst memories. The old man walking her and Rose to their deaths. "Thank you, Jasper," she whispered though her voice was quiet and slightly strangled. Her hand toyed with the edge of the soft mask unknowingly. "I need to find Walter Beck," she added slightly stronger. She had a job to do. She could focus on memories afterwards. Perhaps in her sleep. 

"He is in the study, my lady," the man said with a smile and a formal bow. "Please this way." She nodded and walked the way she knew she would have to follow. The red carpet was the first thing she would get rid of once she had a moment to rest. To decorate and relax. To train her son as they lived in this castle. To erase Lucien Fairfax from the very foundation. Jasper talked about different things but her mind could not focus on that. Finally the door opened and she saw the cracked and broken glass. She felt a muscle in her jaw tick but her eyes found Walter who smiled at her.

"Oakfield has been attacked," she said first and Walter's pleasant greeting died on his lips. She could see the anger in his eyes. "Send some men to back up Hammer then...we are taking Southcliff." 

"It will be done!" Walter called. "By the way...a letter came for you." He pointed at a sealed letter on the desk and she smiled. She wondered what it was and walked towards the desk as her right hand man ran from the study. She walked the study as the door slammed shut before looking at the seal. The seal that glowed in strange light. 

" _A cullis gate_ ," the spirit whispered as he formed in front of it. " _A piece of it anyways. How curious._ " She wondered if she was the only one that could see the spirit. Not that she wanted to test it at this rate. She knew Fang could see or sense him based on the whimpers from him. " _Tell me a story, Sparrow_ ," he added with a tilted head. 

She scowled but sat on the chair by the desk. She could have refused to tell him anything but she found herself tell a story regardless. A story all about her and Rose. "There once were two girls who lived in streets filled with filth," she whispered as the spirit moved around. "Two years before their father disappeared and their mother died of sickness. Forced out on the streets of poverty and cold they fought to survive. Stealing food or doing odd jobs. The eldest desired to live in a castle and one day a trader came to town." She lapsed into silence as she laid back on the cold wood of the chair. "The trader offered a music box that would grant a single wish. The girl's refused to believe in such magic but a blind woman convinced them." 

" _And did you get to make your wish, Little Sparrow?_ " the demon teased as he stepped closer to her. She did not move but kept her eyes on him. Her memories coming into focus. 

"Through favors and jobs the girls collected enough gold," she said and closed her eyes. "The girl's made their wish. The music box disappeared and that night guards appeared. They were taken to the castle. They thought their wishes had been answered. The Lord of the Castle tested their blood. The blood of heroes. He shot them both. Fearing the power in their blood." Her eyes went to the broken glass and the demonic spirit glanced back. She heard a chuckle come from the thing as it's hands went on the arms of the chair. 

" _Do her screams keep you up at night?_ " he asked as his face leaned close. His eyes shining with some malicious enjoyment. " _Or does the feel of vengeance settle your violent heart? Tell me, my sweet. How good it feels to be Queen?_ " She glared at him but could not refute his statements. A part of her screamed she should fight him that she should banish him. That growing attached to this thing was not a good idea. She suddenly felt very tired as a clawed hand ran over her cheek. Her eyes slipping shut as she felt lips on her brow.


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, Death, Ice, and Dreams. What is real and just a dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has a theme song now when I write it. It's Paralyzed by Aviators. Please read and enjoy my guilty pleasure of Jack of Blades. I got it bad for the eldritch God thing.

She could feel and smell the scent of dirt and of blood. The press of bodies as desperation drove them together. Crude metal shackled them all together in a building of stone and dirt. Men dressed in blue guarded the group as they huddled in their cage. She could feel desperation starting to gain control of her heart as she stood next to the group she was forced next to. She was the only woman in the group to her annoyance. The only woman in the room as her clothes scratched her skin. Gone was her nice clothing with rough linen her only protection. 

She did not know where she was or why she was here. Distantly she could hear the sounds of fighting and cheering. A rough cough left the man on her right. He was chained to her wrist with a link connecting them. He had a muscular body filled with scars. His hair had once been brown but now wore more and more strands of grey. His eyes were a dark brown and he scowled at her. "Stay close to me, Lass," his voice whispered in a husky rough tone from hard living. As his back turned she saw more scars on his back that reminded her of a whip. 

She moved and could hear the chain rattle between them. The feel of it cutting into her skin but even in this she felt no desperation riding under the surface. She was eerily calm even with the smell of death leading outside the door in front of her. Even in this situation she could feel that she did not fully belong here. Though she could not fully remember what was important. The desperate feeling of them about to be sent to their deaths was enough to draw her attention. Though it did not stop her feeling as if something was not quite right. "Release the prisoners," a man's voice cut through the thick silence. "If you survive you have a chance to get pardoned." 

Rusty blades and maces were set in everyone's hands. She grabbed a blade and it fit snug into her hand but she could remember using it before. The doors opened and they were pushed out to the sands. A towering structure wrapped around them and cheering echoed. "Now for the next round," a voice called from the stands. "Can our arena champions succeed against a band of criminals freed from Bargate Prison! Let's find out!" The other criminals near her looked around nervously and she could taste desperation. The rough clothes she wore scratched at her skin and the man she had been shackled to pulled her further away from the crowd. 

Between them and the champion rested rough wooden buildings. The scent of death and blood was thick in her nose but it did not make her sick. She could taste it in her mouth and all she felt was a desire to fight. A desire to survive. The old man brandished his mace and nodded at her. She heard the sound of clashing metal and slicing flesh behind her. Two men were struck down by a man in black leather armor. His eyes all she could see as he ran for her. She dodged as well as she could but was obviously on the back foot. She danced around his thin blade. A katana. 

Her rusty sword was worthless against such a stacked battle and her partner ran to her defense. She could hear the announcer mentioning a few champions or her fellow criminals. She jumped backwards and the katana caught the side of her tunic. His eyes glinted maliciously as her shirt ripped some. Though it had missed her stomach. She would not die here. She wouldn't. As her attacker went to pull his sword back she stepped forward. Her knee went between his legs and her rusty blade went through his throat before he could shout. His katana was slipped into her hands as he started to drop into the grip of death. "Damn, lass," the old bandit whispered and she smiled. 

She nodded to the man and they went for their next stage of survival. She was covered in dirt and splashes of blood as they made their best stand for survival. The old bandit now had a Warhammer from one of their victims. Survival. That was all that mattered. She was breathing heavily as she looked at the last man standing that was a champion. "What is this?" The announcer called. "Who is this strange girl with such strength? Could she actually survive?" The man in front of them was massive. With dark skin and thick plates of armor. His eyes glared at her and the old bandit at her side. 

The arena around them was cheering wildly for this entertainment. They perhaps expected a slaughter and instead they gained a show. The girl with a skill of blades. She took a defensive stance as the man ran for the two of them. Her and the bandit worked in concert but they never gained any ground. The man was strong. Way too strong. It took one miscalculation for her partner to lose his arm. "No!" She yelled and went to run for him. The man would die quickly from the wound. 

The taller opponent stepped in front of her and went to charge her. No. This was not right. She wanted to survive and she wanted him to die. Her body seemed to ache but her blood rushed. It felt familiar. So very familiar. The man ran for her and with her own yell a torrent of electricity leapt from her fingers to encircle his form. The shock winding around him and sending him almost down with a startled yell. She cut the current and ran for the man. Her borrowed katana piercing him between his helmet as she landed on his body. She felt her body breathe in the sounds and smell. It was eerily quiet. Her eyes went to the old bandit whose sightless eyes made her look away. 

Then the arena exploded into sound. A yell and a cheer. She was both exhilarated and disgusted by everything around her. The power in her blood made her feel as if she had all the power in the world. She looked around at the arena as clouds quickly darkened the sky. She could see the dark clouds about to release a deluge on her and the blood soaked sands. She closed her eyes as the fat drops started to fall and began to soak her. The blood, dirt, and grime was rinsed off her body. Soon she was replaced by cold. "Come along, lass," a guard said and pushed her slightly. His hand rested on his sword ready for her to turn aggressive. 

She followed his command without a fight even as her stolen blade was taken from her. She could hear frantic whispers around her before another guard ran to the one near her. The whispers were frantic and she could hear a hint of fear. "The boss wants the girl," was the only line she could hear and all too quickly she was passed off. The feeling of wrongness seemed to grow. It felt as if all that had happened was a dream. A dream she needed to escape. Up the stairs they went until she was led to a balcony covered in crimson. 

Pillows and blankets. A table of food and wine. The most eye-catching thing on the balcony was the man cloaked in red. Dark armor on his arms and legs. He turned to face her and bright golden eyes looked at her. An intricate white, red, and purple mask rested on his face. She never even noticed the guard left as her eyes stayed on the man in crimson. "What is the matter, little bird?" He asked as she stepped closer. "Not sure what is real or not anymore? Come to me, _Sparrow_." 

His index finger crooked at her but found herself rooted. Memories assaulted her mind. Sparrow. She was Sparrow. The hero and defeator of Lucien Fairfax. She lived on the streets of Bowerstone. She had been married to a sweet man named Alex. A man who became a woodcutter in Oakfield. A man who gave her a beautiful son. She was...in Bowerstone Castle. "Jack of Blades," she hissed and he chuckled before stepping closer. The metal sharp against the stone. "A dream? This is a dream?" 

"Indeed it is!" He called and raised his hands in a chuckle. "Or at least a memory. I always enjoy watching those in the arena fight and die. The blood of heroes soaked into the sand. You played your part masterfully." She glared at him and could feel her powers come to her hand. The feeling of electricity and she itched to fight him. She could not resist and released the arc towards the man. In preternatural speed he dodged her attacks before a gauntleted hand caught around the throat. She gasped sharply in pain as rough stone bit into her back dazing her. "No need to be so reckless, little hero," he whispered as she felt the other hand run down her wet hair. "Did you not enjoy the dream? The peek at a past lost to you." 

"What do you want Jack?" She asked and tried to inject venom into her tone. Exhaustion struck deep into her bones. Whether it was her actual feelings, his control, or the actions of the dream she did not know. Her hands ran over the crimson cloak before pushing at his chest. He moved closer and her hands were quickly pushed above her head into the rough stone by one of his hands. She could feel his leg wedge between her own in some sick reflection of intimacy. "Get away from me," she growled out and the thing pinning her chuckled. 

"What do I want?" He whispered in a saccharine tone that turned her stomach. "So many things. A physical body again. My power to return. To watch you humans struggle and die. **To taste your blood on my tongue.** Would it be sweet do you think? Removed as you are from your bloodline. Let me find out." His voice whispered so harshly in her ears did not help her. Though a threat it was said in such a way that was almost...suggestive. She wanted to fight him but his free hand pulled the mask away. Pale skin and sharp teeth. Golden eyes and she could see grey hair hidden in his hood. The veins under his skin writhed in acidic black tendrils. What she never expected was for his lips to land on her own. 

Her surprise was quickly taken advantage of. A sweep of his tongue and he took control of this...kiss. Her blue eyes met bright and glowing gold. All she could taste was ice and his tongue had just started to get her own to move when suddenly she was jumped awake. Lightning struck outside the town of Bowerstone and covered her in a flash of light. She could hear Fang barking and growling behind her. The mask? She saw a man on the ground and the mask close to being put on his face. A butler? With a yell she grabbed the mask and pushed the man away. An agonized and furious yell resounded in her skull as her eyes met the butler. "I am...so sorry," the man muttered. 

"Are you...alright?" She asked the man who gripped his chest. Crying green eyes looked at her own. He was young and he looked at the mask in abject terror. "What did it say?" She asked in panting breaths. 

"I...it begged to be picked up, your highness," he blubbered and she threw the mask to the desk. She needed to seal him up. Influencing her dreams in such a way. She could feel his anger and bloodlust even from where she was. "Something about it drew me in," the man continued as brown hair was slicked to her brow in her cold sweat from her dreams. "A voice. A terrible voice. It. _He_. Promised me whatever I could want. Power. I almost...what would have?" The man looked ready to pass out and puke on her boots at this rate. 

"It would have taken your body as its own," she stated simply and flinched at a choked sob from the man. She released a sigh and a glare at the mask as another strike of lightning hit the countryside. "Go get some rest and relax. I need to get rid of this thing," she whispered with a shudder. Only half of it was from the cold. The other half was the teasing feeling of his hands on her shoulders. The man looked up at her and nodded before all but scampering from the study. "Bastard," she muttered and heard a chuckle resound around the room. Echoed by a crash of thunder.

Sparrow walked to the candle, now blow out, and with a single finger the wick reignited. She sat down at the desk with a sigh before running her hands through her hair. " _Poor sweet hero,_ " his voice crooned into her ears and she glared at the mask. Now that her heart started to stabilize she was relaxing. Though her lips still burned with the feel of the kiss from her dreams. The taste of ice and death in her mouth. " _How sweet you taste,_ " his voice whispered in her ear. " **Once I get my body back**..." His hands ran down her shoulders in what would be soothing if not for his voice. Or for his whole presence. 

"Begone, demon," she hissed and she pulled on the power of her blood. The spirit faded with a growl and blissful silence remained. She laid her head on the desk as her tongue licked her lips. A shiver wracked her body. Damn him. Damn him for this. She needed to get rid of it. Why was her body yearning for more?


	4. The Chamber of Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The history of Albion is starting to become clearer but Sparrow realizes too late she is in a trap.

The morning sun was greatly reduced behind a cover of grey broiling clouds. The man who almost fell prey to Jack of Blades had, understandably, not come near her. The cursed mask sat on the table and mocked her with sightless eyes. Her hands were threaded together as she considered the mask. Fang kept his head in her lap and on occasion she would reach down to scratch his fur. The dream kept coming back into focus and painting a picture of a world far in the past. How old was this demon following her around? Her eyebrows furrowed in consideration as she went over all she knew. 

She had heard the name "Jack of Blades" so long ago that she could barely recall where she heard it exactly. She wished Garth was still alive to help her. He would probably lecture her on picking up obviously cursed objects. Damn Reaver. She hated the Pirate King more than she ever realized. Barnum and Garth were dead because of him. "Bad night?" A voice called breaking through her ruminations. Her blue eyes looked up to the dark brown eyes of Walter Beck. His black hair slicked back and his bulky frame barely sitting in a chair across from her. "You never even noticed Jasper dropped off food for you," he added and pointed to a metal covered tray. 

She felt embarrassment warm her cheeks before opening the tray. Some meat, fresh fruit, and bread under the tray. "Sorry," she whispered as a breath sighed out. "A lot on my mind." She picked up a piece of bacon before taking a bite. A little cold now but still delicious. Her anxiety over the situation had covered up how hungry she was. The bite of food made her stomach demand more and she acquiesced to its demands. "Have you ever heard the name Jack of Blades before?" She asked as Walter looked at her. 

"Jack of Blades?" He asked and ran a hand through his hair. "I remember it's the name of a cocktail that taverns sometimes sell. Though the history of it is lost on me." Sparrow withheld her flinch. Though she was filled with the scars of her accomplished vengeance Walter was still fresh in it. The death of Daniel Beck had laid fresh scars on her apprentice of the blade. The young lad now an adult was a mirror of her own broken edges. She was no Theresa with calm trainings and gentle words. The blind seeress was one she missed and hated at the same time. "Perhaps you can check the book store?" Walter supplied helpfully. 

Her eyes met his and she crooked a smile. She was getting distracted. Though she could sleep anywhere from a life of being on the move it did not make it comfortable. Not to mention the mask that influenced her dreams. A memory he said. An arena? What game was the demon playing? "I will give it a look," she said finally as she looked up at him again. "How is the army?" 

"Prepared," Walter answered with a chuckle. "They cannot wait for this to end. Me too. You are already our Queen, Sparrow." The professions of loyalty were not anything new but it still warmed her heart. "Did you read the letter?" She looked down at the desk and the innocently folded letter under her. It was still sealed and the parchment was cold. She had almost forgotten about it with her worrying on the demon and her war. She pulled up the letter before moving to unseal it. The crisp parchment unfolded and she was struck by how familiar the writing was. 

Dear Sparrow,

I woke up today in such a peculiar place. It's like a great big forest, with lots and lots of trees that go on forever. I was scared at first because I couldn't find you, but there's someone here who says he knows us, says he knows our family. He told me his name, but I keep forgetting it. Weird. I think he's a king or something. He's very thin and wears a hood and looks scary, but he's nice and I feel safe with him here. I hope you're okay Little Sparrow. Somehow I know that it's all going to be alright, and we'll be together again one day. He promised me.

Love,  
Rose

She barely made it through the letter before tears appeared in her eyes. A drop hitting the ink before she dropped it. Her wish on the Spire. The return of those she loved. Rose was alive! Walter looked at her with wide eyes and ran to her side. "It's nothing, Walter," she said with a laugh and lowered the letter. "Just a letter from my sister, Rose. I...miss her." 

"At least it is good news," he answered finally. "When do you want to march on Southcliff?" Southcliff. The headquarters of her opposition. The last line of defense for those who refused her will. Was she a liberator from their tyranny or a new tyrant on the throne? Something she would have to think on later. Her reasonings for it all were simple. Destroy every threat to raise her son in peace. Perhaps after she would meet her sister again and they could be a family. The man who found Rose would be her next thing to worry about. A king? That is an interesting addition. There is no king. 

"In two days," she said finally as she came back. Her tiredness was leading to her going off into her thoughts. She was losing track of time. "I am going to go to the book store then I have something to do in the forest," she added before standing up. Her hands pulling the coat around her as her eyes met Walter. She could see his desire to follow her. "I will be fine, Walter," she answered with a smile. "If I am not back quick enough then get Hammer or Reaver to find me. They will know how to get in." 

"As you command, your highness," he said with a bow and she pat his shoulder. Already he overshot her in height and muscle. Though he had no hero blood in him he was still strong. The blood of heroes. Perhaps it was time to do her own digging into what made her so powerful. She picked up the mask but it was eerily silent. Even the feel of his eyes was absent. What was he planning? Her thumb ran down the red side of the eye before she shook her head. With a sneer she attached it to her waist. Walter stared at the mask with distrustful eyes before they brightened at her. 

She nodded and whistled to the black and white collie at her heels. Her weapons and her equipment easily picked up. She left the castle to the feel of overcast weather and the precipice of rain. The hat quickly went on her head and she made the trek for the market. The streets were empty for the most part because of the rainy weather. Spring was ramping up and soon it would be time for harvest. The people of Bowerstone bowed as she passed if they had to be out. The main stalls were empty and the Cow and Corset was full of those looking for a little warmth. 

Minnie was all smiles through the glass as she passed. Suddenly she missed Daniel Beck. The gently smiling man with a humor of a man that had seen much. The Beck Brothers had been one constant in her life when she came to Bowerstone. Fresh from the gypsy camp and looking for a place to warm up. Walter had been young then and wanting to be a soldier. It had taken until she came back from the Spire to fully agree to training him. To also get their story from them. Daniel and Walter's father had been a noble once upon a time. Until a readiness for gambling left them landless and soon enough poor. 

She smiled at Minnie who smiled back with her warm eyes. The puddles of water sloshed under her feet as she entered the book store. Fang shaking off his coat in the entrance way. "My queen," an old voice whispered from the back. It sounded like the rustling of old parchment. "It is good to see you! What may I help you with?" She smiled at the man before taking in the books around her. Nothing she truly grew up with but she could appreciate the pages. All of her stories growing up was told either by her sister or the blind seeress at the camp. One had no paper and the other had lost her eyes ages ago. 

"I need information on Jack of Blades," she stated simply and with no emotion. The old man with grey hair adjusted the glasses on his eyes as he considered her request. His blue-grey eyes seemed to clear and he walked off into the rows of bookshelves. 

"I do not have much I am afraid, my queen," the raspy voice called as she followed him. An old book was removed gingerly from its spot nestled between other books. The faded gold title was clear on its tattered edges. "The Hero of Oakvale," the old man read its title. "The tale isn't complete you see. The story was mostly destroyed when the Heroes Guild was burned all those years ago. But Jack of Blades is listed in the story." 

"What is he?" She asked as she took the book carefully. "Who was he?" The old man smiled and moved back to his spot behind the desk. His gait painful to watch but she helped him. He hummed and rubbed at his chin as he considered the question or perhaps tried to remember. 

"The legend is not clear," the old man said finally with a shaking head. "He was considered a Hero to some or a monster to others. Though he was defeated by the Hero of Oakvale. What truly happened is lost to time I am afraid, my Queen." The old man smiled at her and she blew out a breath. It was not much to go on and she still had questions. So many disparate threads that made no sense. Or a painting that was out of focus or faded. She wished Theresa was not so silent but she would find out on her own. "Keep the book," he said finally. "It's a biography of you ancestor after all, my queen." 

She looked down at the book and ran her finger over the faded text. Her ancestor? Was this the forebear that Theresa had hinted to all those years ago? The Hero of Oakvale. It seems she had been right about the Chamber of Fate. The answers probably lied there amongst the bones of the Heroes guild. The mask was dreadfully silent and she was alone. She should have been happy about it. Instead she felt nervous. What was the demon playing at? Her fingers toyed with the mask as she left the shop. Her footsteps leading her to Bower lake and the Chamber of Fate.

\--------

The room was cold and empty except for a table with the remains of papers and a book she had not thought about in years. The Journal of Lucien Fairfax. That was not her focus. She had not had the stomach to read the journal so long ago. Hammer had stepped forward to read it for her to find the information needed to stop Lucien. He had taken both of their loved ones. With a snap of her fingers the torches around her fluttered to life. It only warmed some of the chamber. Though most of the floor was cracked she could see some of the tapestries that survived. 

Her feet led her to one. A figure loomed cloaked in crimson. His face white and his hands over two figures. One cried bloody tears and one kneeled in defeat. A boy rested beneath the boughs of burning trees. " _How nostalgic_ ," the unmistakable voice purred into her ear. " _Such fond memories_." Those sharp hands landed on her body and caged her in the spirit's arms. She saw one sharp clawed hand rested on her stomach. The other wrapped around to grab her shoulder. If he was not mostly insubstantial she would have felt afraid. Maybe. A chill went down her spine from him. Most of it was, ridiculously, pleasure. 

She needed to free herself from the demon behind her. "Nostalgic?" She asked but kept her eyes on the scene in front of her. "What is your connection to my ancestor Jack?" She could feel his chin on her head as a noise left him. A dark purr that made her teeth bite her lower lip. Her skin prickled in pleasure and she felt sick. What was wrong with her? Why did she want this demon? 

" _Finally you ask the right questions, Little Sparrow_ ," he whispered as his spirit faded. She fell back and caught herself from losing her footing. His chuckle echoed before his face appeared before her own. An inch away and those ghostly eyes stared into her own. His eyes, she knew were gold, showed a maelstrom of dark emotions she could not fully decipher. " _Perhaps I should show you_ ," he murmured and she felt his ghostly lips on her brow again. Vertigo assaulted her as she struggled to stand upright. " _Let us have some fun, my sweet,_ " a voice echoed as her body collapsed to a heap on the floor.

\-------

The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nose as she sat herself up. Leaves and grass rested under her as fire covered a village. Broken buildings and corpses sat in front of her. Her clothes positively ancient as she stood on shaky legs. She saw a man hanging out of a broken window with his skull caved in. A woman sobbed in the bushes as blood leaked down from her chest. The trees around her burned but the path was clear. 

The houses were of ancient design. No longer was she among cobblestone roads. The paths were dirt treaded by foot traffic. The tapestry came to mind. The burning trees and the town. She walked forward into this world she knew was a dream. Or perhaps a memory. A memory told from a demon that was bound to a mask. A host of men stood in front of her. Bandits. No matter the time or place she recognized criminals. The horde moved behind a man cloaked in crimson. Before the last turned to see her she hid herself in the bushes as the house on the hill was the last saved. She saw a man standing dressed in a white tunic and a woman next to him. The man stood and glared at the man in red. "Sweet Scarlett," the man cooed at the woman holding a girl behind her. 

"What are you doing here you disgusting...?" The woman's voice was sharp and filled with her disgust. Her eyes glowing a soft blue as she looked at the man. Sparrow wanted to move and to protect the family. To stop whatever atrocity was about to unfold but she could not move. "What do you want?!" She hissed. 

"Where is the boy, Sweet Scarlet?" Jack asked with a tone that was darkly smug. Sparrow grit her teeth at the sound of it. Even in this memory she could feel the strength of his power. Was that what made her not move? She knew this was a dream but something about it tugged at her. Jack looked around and looked at the girl hidden in her mother's arms. The girl's blue eyes stared at him wide with fear but she said nothing. He stepped closer and the man tightened his grip on an axe. 

"Get away from my family," the man yelled and the woman, Scarlet, yelled out his name as he ran for Jack. Jack of Blades pulled a dagger and dodged the angry swipes before the knife punctured his chest. Sparrow flinched and looked away as the man gasped as the knife drove deeper from Jack's touch. 

"Brom!" Scarlet called and the girl in her arms bit back tears as the bandits chuckled around the group. "Damn you! You disgusting freak." Jack tilted his head as he pulled his dagger from the dead man's chest. His gold eyes meeting the woman's as the body dropped lifeless at his feet. 

"Where is the boy, Scarlet?" He asked with a chuckle as he stepped closer. "I know I need all three of you. Now! Where is the boy?" Scarlet was ripped from her daughter's grip by strong metal gauntlets. He grabbed her chin and pulled her close. " **Tell me where the boy is!** " The knife, slick with her husband's blood, was pressed closer to her face. Her struggles quickly contained by the hands of the bandits. Scarlet glared at him and kept her mouth shut. Her blue eyes shards of glass as she glared at Jack of Blades. "I could make your death quick," he cajoled. "To join your worthless husband. Your children will quickly follow. No pain needed." 

Her silence irritated the man before he threw her away. A growl came from him as he looked down at the girl in pigtails. Tear streaks covered her soot stained face as she stared at her father's corpse. "Where is your brother?!" He hissed as one hand pulled her up by her pigtail. Her yell of pain loud and Scarlet struggled in her captor's grip. Her hand reaching for her daughter. The girl looked up at him and at her mother. Her blue eyes, fear stricken, hardened in the fire. Defiance. "Where is your brother, Theresa?" He asked as the knife point rested on her cheek. 

Sparrow looked at the girl wide eyed at the name. Theresa? Jack of Blades released a sigh before he faced the woman. His head tilted and his eyes narrowed in a cruel smile. Scarlet reached for her daughter as Jack dragged the blade across the girl's eyes. Her scream loud as hands covered the blood leaking from her face. "Take them," he growled and the men dragged them away. Fire crackled around burning buildings and she felt her desire to move returning. Anger and fear twisted her stomach into a knot. Before she could move she felt the metal covered hand grab her by her hair. She struggled as she was pulled into arms that smelled of blood. 

A blade was pressed against her neck that brought her struggles up short. "Enjoy the show, my sweet little bird?" He whispered in her ear and she leaned back to escape the bite of the metal. "Careful," he whispered with a chuckle. "Perhaps next time I will put you in a cage. I will be careful not to break your wings." She grit her teeth and met glowing golden eyes. "To put you in one of my charming cells. Locked in your dreams with me." 

The knife moved over her throat gently and almost teasingly. A caress that could hurt even in this memory. She bit back her more volatile emotions as she breathed in through her nose. The iron smell of blood and burning wood assaulted her. She wanted to attack him and to hurt him for the pain he had caused. The boy. He wanted a boy. The Hero of Oakvale? "Why attack them, Jack?" She asked in an effort to hold back her emotions. She grunted as her body impacted wood of a tree. The knife gone as sharp hands gripped her. 

"Did you not realize it, sweet little bird?" He whispered. "The secret is in the blood." He chuckled and before she could question it she felt his lips on her own. His mask pushed aside as his lips ran over her own. Soft but no less strong as he pressed at her. She tightened her jaw and refused to open her mouth as his tongue swiped at her. "The secret is in your disgusting bloodline," he hissed in her ear as his lips pressed against the soft skin of her throat. "Your whole rotten family." 

"Then why do this?" She asked as she felt his tongue run against the flesh. His teeth quick to follow in a flash of pain and pleasure. Her voice was strangled but even in this she did not struggle. Her hands fisted a crimson cloak as his mouth latched on to a spot of her neck that made her her groan. "Why not kill me?" She asked breathlessly. 

"Kill you?" He asked with a chuckle as his hand pulled her shirt away from a pale shoulder. "No. I do not want to kill you. My sword is lost to me. Your blood is worthless. No...but perhaps you are the key to my power's return." His lips caressed the flesh with a ghostly kiss as he followed her pulse with a sweep of his tongue. "I want you to burn for me," his voice growled. "I want you to beg for me. To have the last of his daughters to be mine. A sweet revenge to be had. **I want you to be mine!** " Before she could question or struggle she felt his teeth latch onto her neck. A grunt of pain leaving her as he sucked at the wound and left a mark.

The fire of Oakvale faded as she jumped awake on the cold stone. Her fingers going to her throat from were his mouth had bit into. Her pale fingers came away with blood as she looked up at the tapestry with wide eyes. The room was utterly silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for you Stweg. Hope you enjoy. 😏


End file.
